Racing

Racing starts in our minds. The second we make the decision to register and participate, the race has begun. We usually start by telling those closest to us our intentions. Then we begin training. For a marathon, training requires a commitment to long hours on the trails and roads. For the shorter races, we can cross train and hammer in preparation of faster paces.

The weeks leading up to the race will give us information about how fast we can run. If we have been slack bags, denial may lead to bravado and smack talking. Proper training with appropriate sharpening wont require words for a peak performance. Sometimes we work hard and run our mouths to create unnecessary pressure on ourselves.

Stepping to the line is one of the greatest feelings in the world. There are very few places where excitement, nervousness and fear are met with a calm demeanor and sometimes pleasant politeness. Its a hell of a thing to willingly toe the line with the knowledge that a tremendous price is going to be paid to reach our goal.

The gun has an amazing ability to make thoughts, aches and pains disappear. Once the chase begins, focus is on execution. Some folks like to tear ass out of the blocks and run straight to the front. These are folks who will be passed. Others lay back and watch the race unfold in front of them. The key is to apply the right amount of energy at each point of the race that will allow us to continue without sacrificing the stated goal.

Late in the race, thoughts will come pouring back in. "I can't do it" is the typical mind's response to stimulus the body sends to the brain known as pain. Pain comes in waves. The trick is to stay on pace until the next shot of adrenaline and endorphin are released by the brain. For those of us who are junkies, leaning into the pain and pushing harder will produce an even greater dose.

The finish line has immense spiritual significance. The sight of this fixed point can change one's complete despair into a hopeful joy. Seeing is believing. With the knowledge that the end is here, we empty the tank and pour out whatever we have left.

Finish lines look like your local pub on a Friday night at midnight. Some folks are stumbling. Some are being carried away. Some are walking around with a stupid confused look on their faces. Many people are drooling. Most folks are smiling and laughing and talking about their experience and enjoying their time together. Hugging is common.